Her Third Lover
"...And I expect those papers in my hand at the start of class on Monday," Professor Walsh said.
"Have a good weekend."
As the Introduction to Psychology students started to file out of the small auditorium, Buffy gave
Willow a horrified look. "Paper? Due Monday? What paper?"
"The paper that was assigned weeks ago," Willow said. "The one on Psychoanalytic theory. It's
listed in our syllabus..."
Buffy quickly set her books down on a table and pulled out her syllabus. She flipped the pages
until she found the one she was dreading. "I'm toast. I'm burnt toast. This five page paper is
due on Monday at 1:00 and I haven't even started it!"
"Guess I should make myself scarce this weekend, huh?" Willow asked sympathetically.
Buffy made a noise of distress, scooped up her books and practically ran out of the building.
When she got to her dorm room, she almost broke the door in her haste to get in. Her thoughts
were going a mile a minute, trying to decide how she was going to do all the research, write the
paper, patrol, and do her other homework for Monday's classes in just two and a half days.
Plus, there was a man in a light blue leisure suit standing in the middle of her room.
Buffy stopped her headlong rush abruptly and stared at the bearded man, wide-eyed.
"Ah, Miss Buffy Summers, just the girl I was waiting for," he said, his voice a pleasant baritone.
"You were?" Buffy said, her surprise turning to wary alertness. She set her books down on her
desk, freeing up her hands in case she needed to fight. "Any particular reason why? And how
did you get into my room?"
"My name is Thanatos," he said, giving her a small half-bow. He had curly, dark hair to match
his beard, dark skin and dark brown eyes. "I am the God of Death. I have come-"
"Wait, Death?" Buffy interrupted. "In a leisure suit?" She give him a disbelieving look. "I
though you were suppose to wear black robes and carry a sickly."
"Sickle," Thanatos corrected. "And that's my helper, the Grim Reaper, not I."
"That still doesn't explain the leisure suit."
Thanatos sighed. "You do realize that I have other work to do. You are not the first person I've
seen today, and you are definitely not the last."
Buffy leaned her jeans-clad hip against the desk and folded her arms. "I'm listening."
"Thank you," Thanatos said. "I have come because you have been named by one William
Bradstreet, who currently goes by the moniker Spike, as the person who can free him from the
"Uh-huh." Buffy looked at him skeptically. "And the joke is...?"
"No joke, Miss Summers," Thanatos said. "Mr. Bradstreet is currently in a holding cell in the
Underworld. He has one chance to return to Earth by choosing someone to tell Hades why he
should be set free."
"And he chose me?" Buffy started laughing. Thanatos watched her with a confused expression
on his face, which only made her laugh harder.
She wiped her cheeks after a few minutes. "I'm sorry," she apologized, faint giggles coming and
going. "It's just Spike and I...we don't exactly have fluffy bunny feelings for each other."
"Still, he has named you as his spokesperson," Thanatos said. He turned slightly and gestured
with his hand. "Shall we?"
Buffy stared at the door that appeared in the center of her room. "You're serious." Thanatos
said nothing, he merely waited.
"I have a question. If I go with you to talk to this Hades guy and tell him to keep Spike, do I get
brought back here?" Buffy asked.
"Yes," Thanatos answered. "You are merely a visitor and will be returned promptly after your
meeting with Hades."
For some reason, Buffy knew he was telling the truth. With a wry smile, paper forgotten at the
chance to get rid of Spike permanently, she said, "What the hell," and headed for the door.
"Not Hell, Miss Summers," Thanatos corrected. "The Underworld."
"What's the difference?"
Thanatos pulled the door shut behind him. "The food is better."
Buffy looked at the key on the happy face keychain as she walked down the stone hallway, and
shook her head. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she said to herself.
Thanatos had told her she had an hour to talk with Spike, then she'd meet with Hades to decide
the blond vampire's fate. She was more curious than anything. She wanted to know why Spike
would even think that she would readily try to get him free.
She stopped in front of a worn, wooden door with a small window in it covered with iron bars.
She had to stand on her toes to see into the cell. Even then, she could barely see her peroxide
nemeses sitting on a wooden bench that ran along the back wall.
Using the key Thanatos provided, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind
her. She wasn't worried about Spike trying to kill her and take the key. Thanatos said that she
was basically non-harmable while she was there.
"Do you really think I'm going to get you free?" Buffy asked mockingly in lieu of a greeting.
Spike shot to his feet, a somewhat relieved expression on his face. "Slayer! You came!"
Buffy slide the key into her jeans pocket, leaned back against the door and stared at him. "And
I'm kicking myself for it, too. Really."
"Just tell Hades that I don't belong here and we can be on our merry way," Spike said, almost
bouncing on his feet at the chance to leave.
"Hmm, let me think about that..." Buffy tapped her chin with her finger, then pinned him with
her steely gaze. "Not."
"Oh come on, Slayer-"
"Why should I?" Buffy interrupted. "A few weeks ago, you blew into my town, tried to kill me,
told me I was a slut and more than likely the worst lay on the planet, and now you think I'm
going to tell this guy you should be released?"
Spike held up his hands. "It's not my fault no one wants to go a second round with you, pet. As
for why I chose you-"
He was interrupted this time by a snap kick to his chin. His head flew back upon impact, then he
dropped his head and stared at her. "What the bloody hell was that for?"
Something inside Buffy had snapped with his callous comment. It had taken her two weeks to
get over the idea that it was her that had turned Parker away, not his own shallow,
manipulativeness to bed as many freshmen as he could. And now here was Spike, ripping into
one of her greatest insecurities. Her rational thoughts shut down in favor of pure emotion.
"Am I that horrible to look at?" Buffy growled, yanking her blouse over her head and throwing it
at Spike. "Do I have some sort of disfigurement that I haven't seen in the mirror?" Her bra
landed on his shoulder.
Spike's mouth dropped open as she continued her tirade, her voice getting louder and more shrill
with each article of clothing she threw.
"Oh tell me, great wise lover," one shoe hit him, "Do I make too much noise?," the other shoe,
"Not enough?," one sock, "Do I kiss like a cold fish?," second sock, "Do I slobber?," jeans, "Am
I frigid?," panties, "WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH ME?!"
Buffy stood before Spike, completely naked and radiating fury, her blond hair wild about her
flushed face. Her breasts were heaving because of her rapid breathing, her muscles were tense
under her skin, making them more defined. Her hands were clenched in fists beside her hips, and
her blue-grey eyes were sparking with anger.
Spike was still standing there with his mouth hanging open.
"Since you are such the expert," she hissed. "Get over here and screw me and tell me what the
hell is wrong."
Spike's mouth closed with a snap. Then he opened it again to say incredulously, "What?"
Buffy stalked over to him, her bare feet silent on the stone floor, despite the anger in her steps.
She grabbed the lapels of his duster and shoved them off his shoulders. "We are going to do this
right here, right now, and you are going to tell me why it is that the two lovers I had didn't want
to 'go a second round with me.'"
"I am?" Spike stared down at the naked young woman attacking his belt. He grabbed her hands
to halt her. "Why should I?"
She wrapped her ankle around his and shoved him backwards. He fell to the hard floor with an
oomph and she quickly dropped down to remove his boots. "Come on Spike, you're a vampire!
You had sex with Harmony! If you did her, you'd do anyone."
"Hey!" he exclaimed, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head where he hit it. "That's not
"Just shut up and fuck me," Buffy snapped.
"Fine, if that's the way you want it." Spike yanked his tee-shirt over his head and dropped it to
the floor, then leaned forward and got off his second boot as Buffy finished with his first. "But
I'm warning you right now, Slayer, I'm going to tell it like it is. I won't lie. If you really are the
worst shag around..."
Buffy's eyes were icy as she met his, but she didn't say a word. Spike stood and divested
himself of his jeans, then dropped back onto his knees. He grabbed her and hauled her up
against him, crushing her mouth beneath his in a bruising kiss. She felt his erection pressing hard
into her abdomen and she felt a tingle of intense desire between her legs.
Then she was on her back on their discarded clothing and Spike was kissing down the center of
her body, leaving a wet trail with his tongue. Her reactions were unconscious, the mewling
sounds of pleasure she made were without knowledge that she'd let out the small cries. She
arched forward when he captured one of her nipples in his mouth, her hands sliding into his soft
hair to hold him to her as he teased the hard peak. She shivered when he blew lightly on the
sensitive areola of her other breast after he'd laved it with his tongue.
A hoarse cry of pleasure was torn from her throat and she bucked against him as an orgasm
ripped through her under the ministrations of his mouth on her swollen clit. She barely registered
the low growl she heard coming from him as she rode out her climax, her head thrown back, her
body rising partially off the ground.
Spike was above her again, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. She tasted herself on his lips
and tongue, as she felt the tip of his shaft probing her entry. Then he was inside of her and she
sucked in a sharp breath of air as she shuddered around the hardness in her core. He raised his
head and stared down into her eyes, the normally cold orbs a molten pool of blue fire.
Buffy's legs went around his waist without thought and she rose up to meet his long, slow
thrusts as he began moving. She saw his eyes roll up a moment before hers squeezed shut as he
increased the pace. She started to gasp in pleasure with each hit of his pelvis against hers, her
hips rolling up with his thrusts.
Her entire body tensed for one brief instant when his thumb rubbed against her clit between their
bodies, then everything shattered around her. Colors and stars flew behind her tightly closed
eyelids as she exploded into her second orgasm. Her body quaked under his, her nails digging
into his shoulders, her head arching back as far as it could. She heard a loud snarl near her ear,
then felt him push up against her body fully.
When she came down from her euphoria, reality crashed around her and stiffened beneath him.
He raised his head to look at her, his mouth open slightly, then he moved off of her and sat on
the floor with his arms resting on his knees, his head bowed.
Buffy was horrified by her actions. She grabbed her clothes and began dressing rapidly, trying
not to break down and cry. She couldn't believe that she had thrown herself at him. A small
hysterical bubble of laughter escaped her lips as a thought occurred to her. Her third lover was
her enemy, and she had just given him ammunition to use against her.
"Slayer," Spike began. "I-"
A loud knock on the door interrupted him. Buffy's head shot towards the cell window, her face
turning bright red at the thought that someone had seen them. She let go with another laugh.
She'd just had sex on the floor of a cell in the Underworld with Spike and she was worried if
someone had seen them?
"Hades will see you now, Miss Summers," a voice called through the window.
"I'm coming," Buffy called back, then realizing what she'd said, whimpered.
She felt Spike's hand on her shoulder and she froze mid-tying of her second shoe. Her body was
tense as she tried to ward off becoming a basket case right then and there. "Slayer," Spike began
again, his voice low and somewhat rough. "I-"
"No," Buffy said firmly, shaking her head. She stood abruptly, not turning to face him. "No.
Don't say anything. I don't want to know."
Quickly, she extracted the key from her jeans pocket, unlocked the door, and left the cell without
a backwards glance.
Hades did not look like the television character, nor did he sound like James Woods. Buffy
stood before a young man with a dark, olive complexion, longish black hair and a neatly trimmed
black beard. He was dressed in a navy blue tee-shirt and jeans, and he had sandals on his feet.
He truly did not look like the God of the Underworld.
"So, Miss Summers," Hades said. "You are here to champion William Bradstreet and tell me
why he doesn't belong in the Underworld." He glanced at a manila file in his hand. "It says here
that Mr. Bradstreet was not brought to the Underworld by Thanatos, but because he..." He
paused, then snickered before continuing. "...Lost a bet with Dionysus. Your friend isn't too
smart to bet on being able to drink the God of Wine under the table."
"He's not my friend," Buffy said automatically.
Hades arched a dark brow. "Then what is he, might I ask."
"He's...," her lover, "...a coworker," Buffy said. Not a total lie, she thought. They did work in
the same field, just on opposite sides.
"And out of all the people on the surface, he chose you to be his spokesperson." Hades tapped
his lips thoughtfully. "Now I wonder, why is that?"
Buffy shrugged. "Not sure. Maybe he thinks since we've had two truces before, he'd try for a
third." She thought about it a moment. "You know, I bet that's exactly why. He knew I'd be
curious enough to come down here to ask him why he thought I'd help him, and he figured he'd
have the best chance of sweet-talking me into getting him free. That little...ooh!"
"I take it then that you do not think I should release Mr. Bradstreet?" Hades asked.
"The only way I'd want to see him set free is if he was on the good guys team," Buffy answered.
"That could be arranged," Hades said.
Buffy blinked at him. "Pardon me when I say huh?"
"If I can make it so that Mr. Bradstreet is on the, er, 'good guys' team as you put it," Hades said.
"Would you wish for him to be released?"
"Sure, why not," Buffy said with a shrug. "Then I can kick his as-er, butt anytime I wanted to
and not have to worry about him trying to kill me."
"Very well, then." Hades gestured towards the door. "Thank you for visiting the Underworld.
Mr. Reaper will escort you back to the surface."
"That's it?" Buffy frowned at him. Hades nodded, stood and left through a different door
without saying another word. She shook her head in confusion, then exited the door he
A super-tall, wraith-like figure in a long, black robe holding a sickle was standing in the hallway
when Buffy entered it. "Hi, you must be the Grim Reaper," Buffy greeted. "I'm glad to see
you're not wearing a leisure suit, too."
He turned and started down the hallway and she hurried to catch up with him, sort of grateful
that he didn't seem to be the chatting type. Soon, they reached a door that opened up into the
center of her room. She stepped through it and hear a soft pop. Turning quickly, she saw that
the door had vanished.
Buffy then heard her dorm room door opening and she turned around again. Willow entered the
room and exclaimed, "Buffy! Where have you been?"
The Slayer walked over to her bed and sat down. "You'll never believe me if I told you," she
replied, then wondered why that sounded familiar.
"Well, I hope wherever it was, you got your paper done, because class is in thirty minutes,"
"WHAT?!" Buffy shot to her feet. "Thirty minutes!"
"I take it that's a big no," Willow commented. She sighed. "I'll tell Professor Walsh that you're
sick. Maybe that will buy you an extra day."
Buffy was still stunned over the fact that she'd lost an entire two and a half days when she'd
gone to the Underworld. "Thanks," she replied, sinking back down onto her bed. "I don't think
it will be a lie. I'm not feeling too hot right now."
"Get some sleep, then get to work," Willow instructed. She gave her friend a small wave, then
left the dorm room, shutting the door behind her.
Twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Buffy hadn't moved from her position
on the bed and she really didn't want to be bothered, but whomever it was pounded on it again.
Sighing, she stood and went to answer it. "What...oh," she gasped in astonishment.
Spike stood uncomfortably in the hallway, holding a black folder in his hand. "Um, hello,
"Hades let you go?" Buffy asked in a stunned voice.
"Yes," Spike replied. He ducked his head and shifted from foot to foot. "I, er...here." He thrust
the folder at her.
Buffy took it and looked down at it. "What is it?"
"A thank you," Spike said quickly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his duster. "For helping
me. It's not very good. I wrote it in about fifteen minutes. I'm going to, er, go now."
She watched as he turned and started to walk away, then suddenly swing around and rapidly
return to her. He shoved a folded piece of paper at her and she had to quickly grab it as he let go
and stalked away again.
Buffy stepped back and closed the door to her room, barely remembering to make a mental note
to do something about the underground entry to the dorm. She glanced back down at the black
folder and piece of paper in her hands, then moved over to her desk. She set the folder down,
then unfolded the piece of paper.
There are lovers and there are lovers,
and then there's you, who surpasses them all.
Buffy's heart thundered in her chest when she read the words written in sharp, angular script.
Unbidden, a huge smile crossed her face, her eyes lighting up with happiness at what the words
meant. She had the urge to spin in circles, clutching the note to her chest, but her curiosity over
the contents of the black folder was too powerful to ignore.
With less than a minute to spare, Buffy rushed into her Introduction to Psychology class and
gave the black folder to Professor Walsh, then said she was sick, so she wouldn't be staying for
class, but she had forgotten to give Willow her report. The Professor nodded and accepted the
She gave Buffy a B- for her paper on Why Sigmund Freud Was A Nut.